He walked down a long hallway in a residential building over 30 stories high, with many apartments and rooms that each tenant rented.
The hallways were rustic, though the rain pouring down outside hid this section somewhat.
Louis Lockward walked down the hallway on the 15th floor. He looked elegant and carried a bouquet of roses in his hand.
He walked impatiently; his steps were quick. Apartment 313, his home, which he had not returned to in two weeks, awaited him.
After three years of continuous work, where his breaks were the few hours of sleep at night, he was promoted at the company.
Finally, he could give his wife the house of her dreams and take her to travel to the places they had always longed for.
All the sacrifices had been worth it. A change was coming to his life, filling him with happiness.
That's why his walk was enthusiastic. He hurried to tell his wife the good news.
He stopped at the apartment door and rang the bell.
"Honey, I'm home."
There was no sound from the other side. Perhaps it was because he couldn't hear over the loud noise of the downpour behind him.
But after waiting a few minutes and getting no response, he held the door handle. It was open.
'How strange, she's always so responsible about this.' His heart sank, prompting him to open the door and step inside quickly.
"Honey?"
His apartment was tidy... at least at first glance.
Looking down, he found some clothes scattered on the floor and a pair of unfamiliar shoes.
Puzzled and with an ominous feeling in his heart, he entered. The light was dim, but figures were sitting across the room on the sofa.
One on top of the other.
Louis froze. His throat closed up, and his body shook.
The person sitting on top of the other was his wife.
Rebecca, the woman he had loved for 10 years.
And the person holding her... was his best friend.
Jack, his lifelong friend, couldn't help but look at him.
"Louis?" he said, barely surprised.
Rebecca tensed, her face turning slightly toward the man's chest. But she didn't pull away.
"You two..." Louis could barely whisper. The world seemed to spin. A sharp pain shot through his stomach, and for a moment, he felt like he couldn't breathe.
"We can explain," Jack said, his voice hollow.
"Explain...?" Louis's mind reeled, trying to escape his own body as countless memories flashed through it. "Rebecca... you and I have been together for 10 years... Why...?"
Rebecca responded with a long sigh and lowered her gaze.
Louis clenched the flowers in his hand with rage. His knuckles turned white.
That reaction of shame... that damn reaction made him feel nauseous.
"Since when?" he asked, his voice trembling.
Jack ran his hand through the long, beautiful hair of his best friend's wife, feeling annoyed.
"For five years."
The answer hit him like a knife in the flesh.
Louis trembled. Not with rage, but with an acute sadness that seemed to cut him from within. The pain was physical, as if his chest were cracking. It completely drained the little color from his face.
"Why...?"
Rebecca finally looked up. Her eyes, which had once seemed to be Louis's refuge, were now empty.
"Because he had a future." She said. "You were just dreaming."
"Money..." Louis finally realized.
It was all about money.
Jack is rich, the son of powerful men who control territories—a mafia boss.
He was just an ordinary man who longed to reach great heights.
The thick silence filled the room, heavyening his heart. He felt his ambitions shatter into pieces.
Jack stood up and walked toward him, which made Louis want to back away, not out of fear but out of disgust.
He looked at Jack with a certain unfamiliarity.
"I'm sorry, brother. We didn't plan this, but things happen for a reason."
"Brother?" Louis stammered a little, feeling angry. "Damn traitor..." he whispered.
Jack moved closer, and suddenly, Louis felt something cold pressing against him.
"I told you once that you shouldn't get involved with people you don't know. This world is dangerous, brother." A smile formed on Jack's face. It was cold and deadly.
Louis looked up slightly and noticed a revolver in Jack's hand.
"Why are you hesitating?" Louis' voice trembled, but his determination not to kneel did not.
"Haha." Jack laughed hollowly. "We want you to work for us, brother. I appreciate your talent. You're the new CEO of that company, right?"
"You made it in just three years. Congratulations." Jack seemed to congratulate him genuinely before pressing his gun harder. "From now on, you'll be in charge of accounting in the south for our secret project. You're good at that, right?"
Louis just stared at him.
"I'll give you the future you've always wanted, even though I'm taking your wife. I'm not a bad brother, right? You'll have wealth and a life. Not everyone gets that chance." The insulting casualness with which he said it was an insult to Louis.
At the same time, Jack grabbed a briefcase resting on the table.
"Your contract is ready. Better pay, flexible hours, and I won't pressure you. Just... don't make this difficult. It hurts Rebecca, you know?" Jack added, pushing the folder toward him.
Louis didn't take it. His hands were shaking, but not from fear, but from pain and helplessness.
"What if I don't agree?" he asked.
"Haha. You'll just die, brother. Even if I miss, a sniper is aiming at you right now from that window. So, sign or die." Jack pressed the gun more.
Rebecca got up from the sofa and put on a white bathrobe. She looked at him one more time.
"I'm sorry, Louis. I don't want you to die. Can you accept that?"
Louis looked at her for a full minute before closing his eyes.
Ten damn years believing a lie. Five damn years with his trust being mocked.
Suddenly, everything turned cold. Colder than snowy nights. Colder than Jack and Rebecca's gaze.
"That's it?" he whispered. "You're not even going to beg for my life... You just want me to be a dog once again."
Jack shrugged.
"Don't take it too personally. That's life."
Louis laughed—a dry, bitter, broken laugh.
"Ha,ha."
He looked Jack in the eyes.
"Shoot, you damn traitor. Just... shoot." His voice broke at the end.
He expected a scream, a plea, a moment that would make him think something would change.
That this was all a damn dream.
A gesture. A doubt. Something.
Nothing.
BANG*
The sound was sharp, and pain shot through his body.
The world spun. Louis fell backward, his back hitting the floor hard, and the wound turned into a gushing fountain of blood.
"This... shouldn't have happened..." Louis trembled with pain; his voice barely audible.
Rebecca approached and looked at him coldly.
"Three years well spent, Louis. Now that you've achieved that position through your efforts, let your wife enjoy it." She said, watching the small flame die out.
Jack lowered the gun and crouched down beside him.
"Money doesn't love, brother. It only buys loyalty until someone offers more." Jack said.
"Can you understand that now? You're down, she's up. But you lifted her up, and she brought you down. It's the irony of life." His melodramatic voice echoed softly in Louis's ears.
He tried to say something but couldn't hear anything anymore, let alone move. He only felt a terrifying coldness slowly enveloping him, while the echo of his own inner voice resounded in a soft, voiceless scream.
'I can't... end up like this... Not for them...'
But his vision blurred, and the ceiling slowly turned into a blur of shadows.
The last image he saw was a framed picture hanging on his wall.
A man holding a gold coin in his right hand and a sword in his left.
Wealth and power.
Something he would never have.
Then silence took over.
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